


no proof, one touch (but you felt enough)

by quinnking



Series: tragic ends and happy beginnings [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: But still angsty, F/F, POV Second Person, enjoy that, way happier than the first
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-16
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-11-14 17:55:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11213235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quinnking/pseuds/quinnking
Summary: “Emma,” she warns. “She's with Henry right now. Give it time.”“But-”A single look from Snow has you almost wanting to cower with your tail between your legs because seriously, you're trying to score a widow just after her husband died?





	no proof, one touch (but you felt enough)

**Author's Note:**

> here's the sequel. :) listen to you are in love by taylor swift. minus the he pronouns, it's hella sq.

_time moved too fast, you play it back._

* * *

 

She looks radiant in black. It truly is her colour, you think, as she sits in a booth at Granny’s with Henry.

Rage and mourning are a blend that makes her as beautiful as the stars themselves.

And you feel like an asshole, really, because she's your best friend and she just lost her husband.

Snows hand is on your elbow because she _knows_ you and knows that you want to go over there, to her, and soothe her.

“Emma,” she warns. “She's with Henry right now. Give it time.”

“But-”

A single look from Snow has you almost wanting to cower with your tail between your legs because _seriously,_ you're trying to score a widow just after her husband died?

In your mind you know that that's not your intention but your reaction to his death and to her in black makes you feel cheap all the same.

* * *

No one has seen or heard from her in days and it makes you nervous. Your phone doesn't leave your sight and you're sure if you ask Henry how she is one more time he may combust.

Until Snow calls you and says, “I had lunch with Regina today.”

You almost pout, but don't, because you're not that big of an asshole. “She'll have lunch with you and not me?”

“You know that it's different, Emma,” she says, her voice taking on a hard, protective edge.

“I know,” you say as you toss yourself onto the couch. “How is she?”

Snow sighs. “She's mourning. She feels like it was her fault because he stepped in front of her.”

Your frown deepens because, wow, yeah, you’re a jerk. He died to save her life and you’re moping because you haven’t seen Regina in a week.

“You have to give her time,” Snow reminds you. “You're her best friend, she'll need you.”

You nod, because you have nothing else to say and you grip the fabric of your sofa tight in your free hand.

“I have to go.”

“Emm-”

You hang up before you can hear what she has to say.

* * *

A knock on your door jolts you out of the hard sleep you were in. You're still on your couch and your back aches with exertion as you roll off onto the floor and drag yourself over to the door.

When you open it she's the last person you're expecting.

“Are you drunk?” she asks, voice full of reproach.

Your ears ring. “Not anymore,” you mutter. And you let her through, moving to the side and letting the door slam. You regret this immediately.

“I'm sorry I haven't called you back,” Regina says after a couple of seconds.

She looks completely out of place in your now-messy apartment. She's wearing black, but there's a pop of red, and your eyes glue to that.

“You've had a lot on your plate,” you say, gruffly, and you watch as her red lips quirk upward humorlessly.

You let all the feelings of not seeing her for the past few weeks flood into you, washing over your body. She looks good. Not forced, not completely fixed, but _good._

“I just needed… space. The only person I've seen other than Henry is-”

“My mom.”

She nods, sitting down on the couch. “She's… helped me,” she says, as if it still pains her to admit that. You almost laugh. “I've also seen Archie a few times. He may not be a real doctor but he is a good confidant.”

 _So am I,_ you think but don't say, biting your tongue.

“I'm sorry,” you tell her and you regret it when you see her face darken.

“I don't want sympathy, Emma. I got too much of that over the past couple of weeks.”

You nod and sit beside her on the couch.

“I don't know exactly how you feel,” you start, voice wavering, “but I know a lot about loss.”

She's looking at you now, all big brown eyes, and goddamn, it's distracting.

“I'm trying to be a friend,” you tell her. “I'm going to be a better friend to you now. I'm here for you.”

You feel the coldness of her hand on yours and it shocks your heart into a stuttering panic.

“You're a great friend, Emma,” she says, and her voice is so soft. “I can tell you're going through some things. Henry can sense it, too. Snow… well, she's not exactly the best liar and when she said you were fine… I knew you weren't. I could just tell.”

You feel your eyes well up. You're supposed to make her feel better and here she is, making _you_ feel better.

“Stop,” you say with a small laugh, and you absentmindedly run your thumb over her hand.

“I'm… not okay,” she tells you, honestly. “I'm still warring with myself and the cricket tells me I have a lot of self-loathing issues to get through.” She pauses for a moment, takes a shaky breath. “But I think I _will_ be okay. You won't see me going all evil queen on the town any time soon.”

You chuckle. “You're so strong, Regina. Don't let yourself feel different.”

“You're sounding like your mother.”

Another laugh, from both of you this time, hers a little wet and yours a little fake.

“We all care about you.”

“I know.”

* * *

It's a couple of days later and you're laying in bed hopelessly and when you turn to see that it's 2 a.m., you want to throw a tantrum.

You haven't been able to sleep since you saw Regina last, the conversation replaying back in her head.

You’re about to pull the covers over your face when your phone lights up and vibrates from the pillow beside you.

Regina's name flickers across the screen and you answer it without hesitation.

“Emma?” she says, a little breathless and sounding like she's been crying. You try not to picture how her face looks.

“What's wrong?” you ask immediately, sitting up in bed.

There's some rustling. “I need -”

_What?_

“Can you come over, please?”

You waste no time in pulling on clothes and rushing out of the house.

You use the spare key Regina gave you years ago and let yourself in, being careful by taking your shoes off and hiding them in the closet before tiptoeing up the stairs.

Regina's door is cracked open so you take that as permission and you walk in and close the door quietly behind you.

“Regina?” you whisper into the dark and stay still by the door until your eyes adjust and you see her curled up in her (holy shit, massive) bed.

You walk cautiously forward, making sure not to stumble or make a fool of yourself, until you fold yourself beside her on the bed.

“Hey,” you say, voice soft. She moves a little and you can see her face. She's not crying, but she probably was earlier, and you reach out and brush her hair out of her face. “What do you need?”

You see her grip the sheets around her until her knuckles are white. She doesn't answer for a second until you hear her murmur, “can you hold me?”

Is that all?

“Of course.”

You both move until she's tucked under your chin and your legs are tangled together under the covers. You hold your breath for a couple of moments after she melts against your body. She's so warm and your fingers are tracing the skin of her back under her nightshirt.

“I'm sorry,” she says. “This is selfish but… I just needed this.”

“It's not selfish.”

And surprisingly, you mean it. You’d do this for anyone in town, and this goes double for Regina purely because she’s been through so much _shit_.

“I feel like…” She pauses and, did she just wiggle closer to you? “I feel like I’m abusing your feelings for me.”

Your heart plummets, because you never want her to think this, no matter what.

“Regina,” you say, and your voice comes out as pained even to your own ears. “Please believe me when I say that can’t be furthest from the case.” You feel her lips move against you in retort, but you’re not having it. “I knew you had feelings for me, sort of, and would you say I abused your feelings for me when you did stuff for me?”

This is the first time you’d said it, aloud to Regina. The first time you’ve admitted you have feelings for her.

“No,” she relents. “I still have feelings for you.” Your heart hammers in your chest. You think you misheard for a moment. “I always did. You understand me like no one else does. And no one else ever will. It’s something that can’t be taken away, something that’s so uniquely us.”

 _Unique._ You yourself have used that word to describe the two of you. Unique, and special, and those are words that starkly contrast yourself, but god, they’re synonymous with her.

“Why didn’t you want to see me after…”

“I wasn’t ready to see anyone, Emma,” she says, and leans up so she can look at you. “It had nothing to do with my feelings for you. I was… I was _sad._ Someone died for me. Someone I loved died, because of me. And I wasn’t ready to share that pain with you. I’m not sure I’m ready now.”

You swallow thickly. “I understand.”

“I know you do,” she says, gently. “But please don’t push. I know it’s in your nature and your fierce in your protectiveness, but this is a process I need to get through on my own. You can be a crutch but you can’t be the force that moves me fully.”

You almost burst into tears because, fuck, you really love this woman. She’s so strong. She’s been so strong, has overcome so much, and now you’re overwhelmed with the warmth in your body.

“Don’t get mushy on me, Swan,” she says, voice thick, as if she’s not the one crying into your shirt.

You both stay silent for a few minutes, and you count in your head. Your fingers don’t cease their movements on her back and she keens a little when you shift the position so you’re spooned up behind her. Your fingers splay on her stomach protectively.

“I love you, you know,” you say before you can stop yourself, because you’re afraid if you don’t say it you may explode with it.

“I know,” she replies.

You lean forward and nudge Regina’s hair away from her neck before playing a kiss there. She stiffens for only a moment and you stay very still before she cranes her neck and captures your lips with hers.

It’s not at all what you were expecting for your second kiss.

If you’d kissed any other time, you think, it would be overflowing with passion. It would be a harder moment. But this, this is tender and intimate and you fight all signals in your body telling you to run because something _clicks._

Her lips are soft against yours, lingering, until you open your mouth a little under hers.

She pulls back, but not much, your noses are still touching and your breath still mingling.

“Goodnight, Emma.” She gives you a small smile before turning and pressing her back closer to your front.

“Goodnight, Regina.”

**Author's Note:**

> as promised, i did write a sequel. and i want to address the amount of rude comments i got here, on tumblr and on ff.net for my first one-shot. constructive criticism i'm okay with, direct hate when i made it clear there would be a sequel is another. no one made you read it and no one made you anonymously comment. just food for thought. 
> 
> BUT to those who liked it and encouraged this, thank you so much. 
> 
> you can yell at me on tumblr (robinwright) or on twitter (parrillagasm). 
> 
> i don't know when the third one will be coming, but it will be soon and it will be longer and be more about exploring the relationship between these two.


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